In the Rough
by kaly
Summary: Alan didn't do holidays, but what about Billy? Post-JP3, major spoilers. Alan/Billy slash.


Title: In the Rough  
Author: kaly  
Rating: PG  
Word Count: 4675  
Characters/Pairing: Alan/Billy, Ellie  
Category: angst  
Warnings: none  
Spoilers: yes, minor  
Summary: Alan didn't do holidays, but what about Billy?

Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing, no money earned.

Note: Thank you to geminigrl11 for the beta.

In the Rough

Alan didn't do holidays. Anyone who doubted that only had to ask Ellie to find out how true it was. And yet, like clock work, come December twentieth, Alan found himself on the phone with Ellie. He didn't have to speak, could barely get a word in really; he just listened patiently as she listed the various reasons he should come and visit.

He smiled, and if it was a bit thin, at least she wasn't there to see. The script was slightly different this time, but the end goal was the same, and Alan prayed for patience.

In the background, he could just hear a baby crying, and cringed at the shrill sound. He was happy for her, truly, that she had found something he hadn't been able to give her. It didn't mean he wanted to be in the middle of the madness of two point four kids and a dog.

"Alan," she persisted, and he could just hear the tell-tale noise of her shifting the phone to her other shoulder. "It's not good for you to stay cooped up in your office. Especially with everything that's happened this year..."

Cutting her off at the pass, Alan interrupted, "I have work to do, you know that." Alan rubbed a hand over his eyes, knowing he was stretching the truth. Worse, knowing she knew because this part of the script _hadn't_ changed. He had to give her credit for sticking with him - and his quirks - longer than anyone else had ever managed. "Next semester won't prep itself."

He was fairly certain he didn't imagine the growl on the phone, though Ellie was rarely prone to such things. "You teach the same courses every spring." A pause and Ellie laughed softly. Alan found himself missing the days they were closer in distance. "I can just record one of our calls, save us both the time... What do you think?"

Chuckling, Alan sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Odd how arguing could be one of the most relaxing things in the world. Well, only if it were Billy or Ellie on the other side of the debate.

Grinning smugly, he nodded. "Science does benefit from efficiency, yes."

"You're terrible," she replied, laughter lightening the words.

"I try. I know this year's been... rough." Alan sobered at the thought. _Rough _was an understatement. "But, Ellie, you have two children. You don't need me underfoot."

A pause followed his words, he could make out muted noises on the other end of the line, but not well enough to tell what was going on. Of course, where children were concerned, Alan had no clue at all, anyway.

"You'd hardly be underfoot, Alan." He heard Ellie sigh and hated that he was frustrating her, even if it wouldn't change his mind. "You'll be spending the holiday with Billy, at least. Right?"

Knowing there was only one answer that would end without being yelled at, Alan opened his mouth to lie, but found he couldn't. Instead, he sighed. "He has his own plans."

When Ellie replied, Alan winced, knowing that he had stepped in it. "And you've asked him? Point blank, actually in so many words, asked him?"

"He would tell me if he wanted me to know. Even considering..." Groaning, he rubbed a hand over his face. She knew him too well for comfort, some days. "It's not been that long, Ellie."

Although he couldn't see her, Alan had no doubt Ellie rolled her eyes at that. "All the more reason to ask, Alan. He shouldn't always have to make the first move."

"He doesn't always..." Alan pulled off his hat, and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. "Oh, stop it." His surrender was met with soft laughter, and Alan grinned sheepishly. "Okay, maybe. Old dogs, new tricks." Alan sighed. "Very old dogs."

"Hardly."

"Billy doesn't talk about his holiday plans, Ellie. Ever."

The fact was that Alan hadn't noticed for a very long time how, as the holidays approached, Billy would begin to withdraw. December was always a chaotic month on campus - finals, grading, students pleading for help - it was distracting, to say the least.

The first couple of years Alan had known Billy, they were slowly getting to know one another first as student and professor, then as leaders on the Fort Peck Lake dig. Later, once they had become something more along the lines of friends, Alan hadn't given much thought to Billy's disappearing act around the holidays.

And every year, just as with the call he was trapped on, Ellie would call and harass Alan to come visit. More often than not, he declined, but some years he would visit and try not to be a complete dark spot. If Ellie's exasperated affection was any measure, he rarely succeeded. At the same time, he and Billy would part with a handshake and a nod, the younger man off to parts unknown for his own holiday.

"After everything that's happened... I think you should ask." Her voice became eager, a tad too eager from Alan's experience, when she added, "Find out what he's doing, and if it's nothing major - which I'm betting it _isn't_ - he can come with you. I'd love to see him again."

Alan groaned. They had only met in person once. Ellie had adored Billy from the start, and Billy was fond of Ellie as well. It made for a terrible twosome that had already left Alan feeling outnumbered and cornered, if very much loved and cared for. As such, he didn't complain that school and work - and sheer distance - kept them apart more often than not, though Alan had a sinking suspicion they talked more often than he knew.

The thought sent a fissure of fear down Alan's spine. "Do _not _call him about this, Ellie."

"Oh, I don't know..."

"Ellie." He paused, took a deep breath and tried to relax. "Please. I respect that he doesn't want me involved. It's... We're too new." Rubbing a hand through his hair, Alan closed his eyes and added, "Even with everything that happened."

They had been together for about five months, Ellie having known for four of those. Knowing he would regret putting it off, Alan had arranged a long weekend and taken Billy to meet her. Five wonderful and terrifying months since Billy had almost died for the second time - since Alan had finally opened his eyes to what he was about to lose and grabbed on tight. At least one new trick for an old dog.

However Alan might have hoped for otherwise, though, come the holidays, nothing had been said between him and Billy. Even with its emotional start, it wasn't exactly the longest of relationships, and he hadn't felt right intruding on Billy's plans uninvited.

If it hurt just a bit, that Billy hadn't chosen to share what those plans were, well, Alan kept that to himself. After all, he had made no secret in the past - before everything changed - how he felt about the holidays. So Alan really couldn't complain that Billy wanted to continue his own traditions, relationship or no.

Ellie was silent for a moment, and Alan had no doubt she was thinking about that, and debating the best way to reply. "Something doesn't feel right about that, Alan. I've seen how he is with you. Even before you finally quit beating yourself up for hurting him - for loving him - he adored you. He told me so."

Even though he was touched at the confidence, Alan wanted to protest even knowing it was pointless. Capitulating far more than he had planned, Alan let out a long breath. "I'll call him. Okay?"

"And you'll come visit? I know it's not a quick trip and you were here not long ago, but..." Ellie pressed, knowing she had Alan on the run and relishing the victory. "At least promise not to spend the day locked up in your office, alone."

Alan smothered a grin. It was a good thing he loved her - she might have driven him completely mad, otherwise. Not complete cowed, Alan replied, "We'll see."

"Okay. But if you do decide to come - and I mean both of you - don't worry about airfare. In fact, it's one less excuse _not _to come."

Shaking his head, resigned to the trump card that would negate his final argument, Alan grinned. "Let me guess."

There was a beat, and they spoke in unison, "Mark."

"He offered," Ellie added in a quiet voice, once her laughter faded. "He knows I'd like for you to visit, especially this year." She sounded sheepish, asking in a small voice, "Merry Christmas?"

Feeling oddly guilty - his narrow escape from the island had scared Ellie badly, Alan knew - Alan sighed in resignation. God only knew how much those tickets had cost. "Ellie..."

"Please, Alan. Just consider it." She paused, and Alan had no trouble imagining her expression - serious and determined. "You _and _Billy, there's two tickets. Okay?" There was a pause, another voice he couldn't quite make out in the background, and Ellie's muffled reply. "I'll call you tomorrow?"

Chuckling, Alan nodded. "Never doubted it." They had their traditions, after all.

Alan hung up the phone and slouched in his chair. It occurred to him that he wasn't even sure if Billy was still in town. They had gone to dinner the night before, the conversation strained and Billy's attention elsewhere. At the time, Alan had thought it due his plans, but in retrospect he wasn't so sure.

They hadn't exchanged gifts - Billy's from Alan was still sitting on his desk - and Alan wasn't sure when they would. The one time Alan had mentioned the holidays a few weeks prior, in a round about way, Billy had just shook his head and muttered something distant about doing the same thing he did every year. He hadn't explained, and Alan hadn't asked.

Based on what little Alan had gathered, it sounded like maybe Billy didn't have the happiest of families. Which would make sense, given that Billy never mentioned any - ever. Even in the weeks after the island, once they had reconciled, Alan had never seen or heard about Billy's parents. He hadn't wanted to upset Billy, so he hadn't pressed the issue.

Sitting in his office, really thinking on it, Alan couldn't help but wonder why the total silence remained. In the past, they wouldn't have seen one another for a couple of weeks around Christmas and New Years, and it was understandable. However, this year was different in that regard, due to their fledgling relationship.

Unable to bite back a sigh, Alan let his chin fall to his chest and closed his eyes briefly. Giving in to the inevitable - an irresistible force named Ellie (he certainly seemed to attract the type!) - Alan grabbed his hat, quickly closing and locking his office behind him.

He gave half a thought to calling Billy first, but dismissed it. Alan wasn't going to intrude if Billy was out - he wasn't that type of lover, and neither was Billy, thankfully. Instead, he would swing by Billy's small apartment and see if he happened to be home. Alan put odds that Billy was already out of town, campus just a speck in the rearview mirror.

He ignored the small voice that betrayed him, saying how much he hated the idea that Billy could just leave. Leave him. Even if Alan was Scrooge personified, according to several members of the faculty and staff, the thought stung.

Billy lived not far away from campus, only half as far as Alan himself, and it wasn't long before Alan was trudging up the rickety metal stairs to the third floor. And although he tried not to worry too much about the long-term, Alan couldn't help but hope things worked out well enough to justify Billy moving out of the wretched little complex.

Reaching the door, Alan debated momentarily. He had a key - Billy had given it to him a couple of years before - but it seemed a bit presumptuous, given their parting the night before. Instead, he raised his hand and knocked softly.

He had seen Billy's car in the lot, and hoped that meant he was still home. Even still, Alan flinched the slightest bit when the door swung open.

For a moment, he could only gape. Billy looked horrible. Hollow-eyed and hair askew, the younger man merely stared back for several seconds, silently. Then it was if a switch was flipped, and he stood straighter, running a hand through his hair which only served to make it worse.

"Alan?" he asked in a rough voice.

Blinking, Alan shook his head against the surprise and nodded dumbly. "Can I come in?"

There was the shortest beat of time that he thought Billy might deny him, but eventually Billy nodded in return, standing to the side. One hand on the door, he gestured inward with the other. "Sure."

"I wasn't sure if you'd be here," Alan said as he entered, casting a wary glance around the darkened interior. Removing his hat, he dropped it onto the kitchen table and turned to watch as Billy closed and locked the door.

Billy nodded, glancing around the room absently, before looking at Alan. "Yeah."

When nothing more was forth coming, concern went from whispering in the back of his mind to screaming. Billy was rarely at a loss for words, and the reticence - which was more Alan's style - was a warning sign he couldn't ignore any longer.

Alan took a deep breath and jumped into the deep end, hoping he wouldn't regret it. "Are you okay?"

The other man looked up sharply from where his attention had wandered to the floor. "What?" Billy looked honestly shocked, and Alan's throat tightened. He watched as Billy pasted on a weak grin, shrugging. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Aware more than ever of the need to tread carefully, Alan gestured around the room. "You're sitting in the dark, alone. Doesn't look 'okay' to me, Billy."

"So," Billy replied. Something dark and unfamiliar glinted in his eyes.

His own eyes wide with surprise, Alan stared for a moment. Deciding on a more roundabout tack, Alan shrugged one shoulder. "I thought you had plans?"

Billy laughed, the harsh sound making Alan's skin crawl. If he had thought something might be wrong when he had first arrived, there was no questioning it any longer. The growing distance of the past few days had morphed into a darkness Alan didn't recognize.

"Billy?"

"I'm fine," Billy insisted, picking up a tumbler from the coffee table and taking a drink.

In the dim light, Alan wasn't sure as to the exact poison, but was surprised all the same. Billy wasn't one to sit around and drink, especially after his close call that summer. Then again, he was beginning to wonder exactly how much he knew about Billy at all. He opened his mouth to reply, but a cool look from Billy silenced the worried question that begged to be asked.

"I'm fine," Billy repeated, having taken another drink and returned the glass to the table. The younger man sighed softly, almost deflating, and gave Alan a skittish look. "I promise, Alan." He looked almost guilty, his eyes unfocused for a moment before gesturing with the glass. "I know my limits."

Disbelieving the former - he trusted the latter, if warily - for obvious reasons he could only presume, Alan shook his head. "You don't look fine, Billy. I've become accustomed to you being distracted around the holidays. I always thought you were planning a trip home. But this year... If I hadn't been so distracted with work, I'd wager to say you've not been _fine _for days now."

Alan shook his head once more, at a loss. Emotions were far from his strong suit, and he could only hope Billy wouldn't play that against him.

Everything was still for a moment before Billy shook his head, just barely, and collapsed onto the couch as though he were a marionette, with its strings suddenly been cut. Slouching, Billy threw an arm over his eyes. "No. No trip."

Confused, Alan took a chance and sat next to Billy. They were close, but not so close as to touch without one of them reaching out to the other. Alan wasn't sure what would be welcome, not with this new, edgy Billy, and he didn't want to risk pushing too hard, too fast.

"What did you mean then, about doing what you normally do? You've always gone..." Alan's voice faded. It occurred to him that had utterly no idea where Billy had gone for holidays past, just assumptions.

Billy smiled, but it was humorless, and it made Alan sad in a way he couldn't quite name. "I've always gone right here." He paused, tilting his head to the side, as if considering. "Well, not necessarily right _here_, but wherever I was living at the time. My dorm room, apartment, wherever."

Wishing he had a map for the conversation, Alan gave Billy a baffled look. "What about home?"

"Home?" Billy dropped his arm from his face, and tilted his head to look at Alan. The older man couldn't help but notice the bright shine of tears in the pinched eyes. "I don't have a home to go to."

Mouth gaping, Alan realized he now knew what being utterly pole-axed felt like. Well, when there weren't dinosaurs and eccentric old men involved. He finally managed to choke out, "What?"

Billy blinked quickly and the moisture was gone as if it had never been. "I've not had a home since I was a sophomore. _This _is home." He indicated the small apartment with a wide gesture, before dropping his hand onto the couch between them. His voice was very quiet, Alan having to struggle to hear it, when he added, "It's all I've got."

"Billy..." Alan's voice failed him, his chest squeezing tight at how small Billy seemed. Clenching his jaw, Alan shook his head roughly - not understanding, but disagreeing all the same. "This isn't all you have."

One corner of Billy's mouth tilted upward for the briefest of moments as he looked at Alan. Whisper soft, he said, "No. Not now."

Unable to take the distance any longer, Alan scooted over until they were side-by-side. In a matter of seconds, Billy was pressed to his side, Alan's arm around his shoulders. There was a desperation to Billy's grip around Alan's waist that worried the older man.

"Talk to me?" Alan asked, running his fingers through Billy's curls as he held on tight.

For several moments there was no reply, save Billy's grip somehow becoming even tighter. Alan had just about given up on his request being granted when Billy began to speak.

"You know I like to do crazy things, right?"

If the mood had been lighter, Alan might have laughed. Oh yes, he knew. Scared him witless at times, but it was just part of what made up the man he loved.

Billy didn't wait for Alan's reply to his rhetorical question. "My parents were the same way. It was how they met - an adventure tour in the Grand Canyon. They loved to explore, to push themselves. They weren't reckless," Billy's voice sped up at that, hastening to reassure, Alan knew. "They taught me to be safe, too."

The past tense hadn't escaped Alan's notice, and he dreaded what was undoubtedly coming.

"I was a sophomore at Cal, working on my bachelor's. Finals were coming up, so I'd skipped going back home at spring break to stay local." Billy laughed - a hollow, self-depreciating sound. "I'd partied a little too much early on, needed to make up for it. I had planned to go home for the summer. I'd had the same job since high school, and knew I could make some cash, and see my folks then."

Billy took an unsteady breath, falling silent. Alan merely held on, rocking them back and forth slowly, hoping it was comforting.

"I never had any brothers or sisters, was always just them and me. The three amigos, my mom called us." Billy paused, swallowing audibly and pressing more closely to Alan's side.

"So since I wasn't planning on coming home for the break, they decided on a spur of the moment trip just before my finals started. There were some class five rapids up in the Canadian Rockies they had wanted to check out for a while."

Silence fell once more, and horrific visions filled Alan's mind of drowning or being bashed against rocks. He pressed his lips against Billy's temple, closing his own eyes against the pain he could still feel in his partner. Alan had lost his own parents, although years apart when he was older, and couldn't imagine what Billy must have gone through.

Voice cracking, Billy said, "Their plane went down, just this side of the border."

Alan swallowed roughly, mouth opening and closing only to open again. Words - those that might not be weightless and trite - refused to come. Instead, Alan held on as tightly as he dared, wanting Billy to know he wasn't alone.

Billy sniffed softly, pressing his face against Alan's throat for several seconds.

"After that," he finally said, the words tickling Alan's skin, "well, home didn't seem so much like a place anymore." Billy moved to sit back, but Alan refused to let him retreat. Eventually, Billy sighed and slumped, boneless, against him. "And Christmas... Christmas was my mom's favorite. She always made such a big deal of it. Made it special."

Shrugging, Billy stared at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. Alan waited, the air heavy with secrets and loss and pain, even after so many years. He knew well how loss could lay in wait, bearable and easy to ignore for so long, only to reach out to hurt most in the slow quiet times. At the special times.

Alan could only marvel at Billy's strength - his resiliency - at how he had reclaimed his life after it was shattered so abruptly. He thanked God for that fact, for the man that his lover was. It was selfish, but Alan couldn't quite picture his life without the whirlwind that was Billy in the middle of it.

He was pulled back to the present, and the small, sad apartment without a single decoration, when Billy spoke once more. "I just couldn't do Christmas anymore." A heavy sigh full of long-buried emotions followed the words. "I won't lie and say I forget, or that I don't miss them the rest of the time, but... I can cope most days, you know? But right now, when everything is about family and being happy and together..."

Billy's voice faded out, only to be followed by a painful whisper saying, "That's when I miss them so much I can't stand it. I can't stand anything."

"Oh, God, Billy." Alan's eyes burned with tears he refused to let fall, aching for the pain radiating off his young lover. How had he never known, never seen... Pushing away the guilt - that was the last thing Billy needed from him - Alan ran his hand up and down Billy's back, hoping to comfort him with the familiar gesture. "I'm so sorry."

There was a stuttered sob, but only one, and Billy curled inward, pressing his face into Alan's shoulder and clutching his shirt in both fists. "I hate this."

Confused, Alan cradled Billy's head in his hand, the other rubbing up and down one arm. "What?"

Sitting back abruptly, Billy pulled out of Alan's arms and stood, only to begin pacing restlessly. Alan watched as Billy ran his hand roughly over his face, obliterating any sign of the scant tears that might have fallen.

"I hate being such a wreck. It was a long time ago."

"Billy..." Alan stood, moving to block Billy's path. He grasped Billy's biceps, shaking him gently. Billy wouldn't meet his gaze, settling for staring off into space, just over Alan's shoulder. In a quiet voice, Alan tried to reason the unreasonable. "It wasn't that long ago, and it doesn't matter if it was. It'd still hurt."

Chewing on his lip, Billy glanced at Alan quickly, through his lashes. Suddenly, his stubborn willpower deflating, Billy sagged against Alan's arms. Alan stepped forward quickly, bracing himself so they didn't end up in a tangle on the floor. In other circumstances he might not object to such an ends, but these were definitely not the means.

"I'm sorry," Billy whispered, wrapping his arms around Alan's waist once more.

Alan shook his head. "Don't apologize."

"I should've told you."

Touched, Alan glanced skyward before closing his eyes. "I understand, Billy. I do."

Billy straightened, pulling back far enough he could look Alan in the eye, but not release his grip. He took a deep breath, and his eyes weren't quite as tormented. "So I guess you're planning on spending the break hiding in your office?"

Seeing an opportunity, one he had dreaded and wanted to avoid only an hour before, Alan smiled. "Actually, I've been invited to Ellie's." Billy's face fell, his mouth opening, but Alan continued before he could speak. "_We've_ been invited to Ellie's."

"We?" Billy asked, blinking in obvious confusion. "You're sure?"

Alan nodded, smiling softly. "She's terribly fond of you, you know that."

Billy nodded, hesitantly, in return. Alan knew full well that at any other time, Billy didn't doubt that, but the night's emotions were taking their toll.

"I'd like that," Billy said a few moments later, his voice lacking its usual confidence.

"Good. She might stop nagging me, then." Alan winced, melodramatically, hoping for a reaction. "Of course, that just means you'll both be ganging up on _me_."

It earned him a smile, if a somewhat reluctant one. "Would we do that?"

Alan cupped Billy's cheek in his hand and rubbed his thumb over the rise of cheekbone, he nodded. "You know full well you would."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"I'm always right."

Billy, as expected, merely rolled his eyes.

Nudging Alan with his shoulder, just the corner of Billy's mouth tilted in the slightest smile. "Could get Charlie to help, too."

The words weren't as humorous as they might've been, but they lightened Alan's heart all the same. Even if they were to threaten him with a three year old.

"But the airfare..." Billy said, serious once more, far too practical at times. "We'd never get a flight, Alan."

"Oh, you don't know Ellie." At Billy's raised eyebrow, Alan smiled. "That's phase two of her dastardly guilt plan. Mark worked some deal, and we have two tickets, for two days from now."

"Two?"

Threading his fingers in Billy's hair, Alan ran his thumb across the edge of his ear. He could just feel a swell of almost-invisible scar tissue nearly hidden there. "I told you she wanted you to come with me."

Another smile threatening to break through, although it didn't quite make it, Billy asked, "And if I _had _been gone?"

"Refundable tickets, I have no doubt." Alan smiled, before kissing Billy on the forehead. "Ellie's nothing if not both predictable _and _practical, you know."

Billy did smile then, fondly, and Alan's chest felt warm at the sight. "Sounds like someone else I know."

"I have no idea who you mean." The deadpan words earned him a kiss, and once it was over, Alan sighed happily. Maybe things - while not curable - were salvageable. Taking a deep breath - taking a chance - Alan added, "You're not alone, Billy. Not anymore."

He knew he had said the right thing when Billy's eyes glinted, if only for a second, before it was blinked away. Billy sniffed softly, laying his hand over Alan's heart and staring at it for a second, before smiling at Alan.

"Neither are you."

end


End file.
